I was running, a monster at my heels. It was made of shadows and had sharps claws. I tripped on an overgrown root and came face to face with the beast.
I woke up with a start, covered in sweat and heart racing. It was a little dark, the sun just starting to come over the horizon. I'm safe; I hear Electra's light snoring coming from above me. I still feel a bit on edge. But grab my clothes and towel to go shower anyway.
It feels good to wash all that dirt and grime off with cold water. I try to avoid noticing the butterflies in my stomach; today's the reaping. It's going to happen; how do Ed and Electa deal with this every year? Never mind; worrying won't stop my name from being drawn. I'll be fine anyway; my name is only in there three times. Compared to the thousands in the bowl every year, my chances are incredibly slim.
Soon I'm in a comfortable pair of pants and a t-shirt getting breakfast. Ed's already there with a piece of toast in hand and some papers in front of him.
"Hi, you good," I ask him with a smile.
"Fine, what has you up so early?"
"Nothing," I lie.
He doesn't look very convinced but lets the matter drop, putting some bread in the toaster for me. I go about making some tea for us. It was light, but frankly, any more, and I would have thrown up.
"I've gotta go," I say.
"Where are you going?"
"Park; I'm meeting up with Fara," I answer.
"Okay, but be back by 9."
"I will be"
She's already there when I arrive. Sitting at one of the chess tables, she would look at ease to anyone else. But I noticed the way her fingers tapped a bit too quickly on the concrete and how her eyes never stayed on one spot for very long.
"Miss me," I say with a glimmer in my eye.
She let out a huff, "you wish," she said though I noticed her fingers had stopped their movements.
"Up for a game," I say, gesturing to the table that already has the pieces set up.
"Always."
The next hour or so passes quickly with plenty of teasing. Eventually, I'm surrendering my king to her with a frown.
"Good game," I say.
"It certainly was; mind joining me on the walk home?"
I check my watch; I still have half an hour left before I need to be back home.
"Why not; I have time to spare."
"Great," she says happily, linking her arm with mine. "You nervous for the reaping?"
I look down and consider lying.
"Don't lie," she says as if reading my mind.
"I- why would you even think-," I sputter.
"You always look down and fidget with your clothes when you're thinking about lying."
"Fine, I'm slightly concerned."
She raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, maybe a little more than slightly, but who wouldn't be," I say, finally giving up the act.
"Same still, the odds are in our favor and all."
"Yeah, I know, doesn't mean I'm not nervous."
Fara hums in agreement; nothing can ever be sure when it comes to the hunger games. All we can do is hope and wait. I can see Fara's house from here, it's nothing special, but it's taken care of well. You can't always say the same for the other districts; try as the Capitol might, they can never completely hide the broken down and abandoned buildings. Fara's an only child (a fact I have more than once envied her for), which means that the house is quaint. Especially in comparison to some of the dwellings of the wealthier members of district 5.
She unlinks her arm from mine and says goodbye and that she'll see me for the reaping. I leave, still with butterflies in my stomach, but they feel much more pleasant now. I wonder why that is. I check my watch; damn it, I only have seven minutes left. Letting out a huff, I start jogging, thankful for my built-up endurance due to track and field.
By the time I get back home, I'm panting and covered in sweat. Mom frowns at my appearance and tells me to grab a quick shower. I'm in and out in 5 minutes.
I look at my dress in the mirror. It's nothing special, just a sky blue cotton dress that went down to my knees. A hand-me-down of my sister's, I'm lucky it's my favorite color. I do a small twirl admiring myself in the mirror for a few seconds. I like how my wavy hair bounces with my movement. Speaking of hair, I should probably start that. I end up wrestling with my hair for almost twenty-five minutes until it looks decent enough to be shown on TV.
I decide to fix myself a quick snack, with 10 minutes still on the clock. So imagine my disappointment when I find an empty jar of peanut butter in the fridge. Issac's name is practically written all over it.
"Issac, I would love to know why an empty jar of peanut butter is in the fridge," I shouted.
"Huh?"
"I said, why is an empty jar of peanut butter in the fridge," I said, righteous anger pounding through my veins.
He marches down the stairs, "it isn't empty," he said, grabbing the jar to show me, "see."
"No, I really don't," I say, taking the jar back and moving towards the trash can. Maybe this is a bit dramatic, but I have a right to be sometimes, y'know, hormones and all that.
"You're ridiculous."
"And you're immature."
He stuck his tongue out at me and went back, probably to sulk. I roll my eyes and sigh; little brothers are such nuisances.
"Okay, everybody in the living room; now," mom called.
My siblings and I quickly made our way to the living room, lining up. Mom checks us all, making sure we're presentable. Before heading out, I grab my house key. I got it a few years back; it had a star key chain that lights up with the flick of a switch. It runs on solar energy; with Ed helping me make it for my 12th birthday, the memory still warms my heart even though my nervousness seemingly increasing tenfold.
I'm going to be alright. We board the bus; it feels like I'm drowning in between all these bodies. I'm going to be alright. They prick my finger; the blood looks just like the boy's from last year whose screams were silenced only by a slit throat. I'm going to be alright. Fara's hand links with mine, her palms are just as sweaty. I'm going to be alright. Our escort has long and sharp blue nails; they look like a mutt's. I'm going to be alright. Her hand swirls around the bowl; tears prickle my eyes. I'm going to be alright. Her voice utters on name high and clear in her Capitol accent.
"Tessa Johnson"